
REV. DR. CHOULES" 



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ON THf: DEATH OF THE 



HON. DANIEL WEBSTER. 



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SERMON, 



UPON THE DEATH OF THE 



HON. DAIIEL¥EBSTER, 



DELIVERED IN THE NORTH BAPTIST CHURCH, NEWPORT, R. I. 



NOVEMBER 21, 1852. 



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J/0:^1]H0ULES 



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NEW YORK: 

EVANS & BRITTAN 

18 5 2. 



_ 34-0 



CRANSTON & NORMAK, PB., NEXVPORT, R.I. 



S E E M N . 



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1 Samuel xxv : I. " And Samuel died, and all the Israel- 
ites were gathered together and lamented him, and buried 
him in his house at Ramah.''^ 



One of our Piiritaii Fathers remarked that it was "a hard 
thmg to funeral it well." We find Moses praying for Heaven- 
ly wisdom, that he might meditate upon mortality when God 
issued the decree of death upon the whole generation cf 
Israel, that came out of Egypt as a punishment for their 
sin. The present is no ordinary occasion. — God has taught 
us by his providence, and you hear his voice crying, " Earth,, 
earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord." 

A few weeks ago this sanctuary was crowded, while I en- 
deavored to improve the nation's loss in tlie removal of her 
patriot statesman, Henry Clay, and you will remember that 
then I comforted you, and cheered my own mind, with the 
thought, that the nation could turn, amid all its bereavement,, 
to her favorite son, the defender of the Constitution ; — but as if 
God would teach us that vain is the help of man, we are here 
again summoned to mourn the mighty, the wise, the prudent^, 
and the eloquent man, for Webster, the earthly stayand staff 
of his country is no more. He, in whose world-wide fame, 
the Union gloried, is in the embrace of death. 

The text challenges our attention to the death of a great 
and good man. 

1. A great and good man is dead. ''Samuel diedP I 
is appointed unto man once to die." I need not stop long to^ 



names in pur national heraldry. They were nobility of God's 
own creation — but they are gone. 

They bury Samuel at his own abode in Ramah — where he 
lived and ruled, and loved and was beloved, there let the pro- 
phet's dust be laid, there let the Israelites gather together, 
and let their piety be encouraged, and their nationality ani- 
mated, at the grave of departed worth and excellence. There, 
where God had so often spoken to his servant, there let his 
flesh rest in hope and wait his waking voice, for he though 
dead shall live again, God who called him in childhood, 
again and again, shall yet once more address his faithful ser- 
vant, and call him forth from the dust and darkness of the 
grave, to a new and more glorious existence ; when instead of 
being a prophet, he shall be a king and priest unto God. 

I shall not be guilty of the vain attempt to circumscribe a 
survey of the intellectual powers and the public career of the 
departed patriot within the limits of a discourse. 1 do not feel 
that this is the time, or fitting occasion, to record or even sketch 
his mighty acts. They are written in men's memories — they 
are to constitute the proudest pages of our country's history. 
I have no inclination, amid the grief of our national bereave- 
ment, to aim at any thing beyond a retrospect of the memora- 
ble death scenes of the great statesman, record some recol- 
lections of my own intercourse vvath him,' and offer some re- 
flections adapted to secure our profit. 

Whatever Daniel Webster was, belongs to the United States. 
To use the language of Mr. Burke in his pathetic lamentation 
for his sou, " He was a jniblic creature;'^ for more than 
half the period of our existence as a nation. He was, (to ac- 
commodate the language of John duincy Adams, employed 
in an eulogy upon Canning,) " American through and through; 
American in his feelings, American in his aims, American in 
his policy and projects. The influence, the grandeur, the do- 
minion of America were the dreams of his boyhood, and the 
intense eflbrt of his riper years. For this he valued power, 
and for this he used it." From his first appearance at Wash- 



ington. his public career was a series of triumphs. It was 
truly said of him that the '• north had not his equal, and the 
south had not his superior." To discharge the duty of his po- 
sition, to satisfy the claims and expectations of the land, and 
above all to satisfy his own conscience ; Mr. Webster lived 
intensely — lived in the eye of the world, the pride of his own 
country and the admiration of all lands ; But — 

" The boast of heraldrj^ the pomp of power, 
Hai- With all^beauty, all that wealth e'er gave. 
Await alike the inevitable hour, 

The paths of glory lend but to the grave. — " 

The full age of man had been accorded to Mr. Webster, 
and then the silver cord began to show signs of loosening. 
There came at first uncertain rumours, indefinite intelligence 
that the great statesman's health was in a precarious condi- 
tion. Apprehensions at length became mingled v/ith alarm, 
and doubts darkened into certainty. Still he had not aban- 
doned the helm of the ship of State ; it was known that he 
held it in his mighty grasp ; his skill was daily exhibited, but 
the life of labor was over, the evening of repose had set in ; 
he was walking through the valley of the shadow of death 
but he feared no evil, the rod and the staff were there to sup- 
port the pilgrim, beat down his enemies, and point out his 
way. The springs of life were freezing at their source, and 
they no longer revivify and strengthen. Yet amid the wreck 
of matter, that wondrous world of intellect retains its lustre, 
and seems even more brilliant from the perishing condition of 
the casket that enshrines it. 

" The soul's dark cottage battered and decayed, 

Lets in new light through chinks that time has made." 

Still gleams that eye of magic power, still flows in weak- 
ness, tones of melody sweet as woman's voice, still the wan 
features are irradiated with the smiles of passing majesty and 
beauty, as the exquisite forms upon certain vases, are only visi- 
ble when lighted from within. He knows he is passing 
through the dark valley, " but the lamp of his love is his light 



through tlie gloom. '' I see no terror, no alarm in that cham- 
ber of death, the room is full of the light of the Lord, it is a 
holy, hallowed atmosphere. The end of life was in perfect 
harmony with its course. Day by day v^^as filled up with du- 
ty. Calm and serene, while all around were deeply agitated, 
he continued to serve his country, received and answered let- 
ters, and gave directions for the daily management of his 
farm. 

I love to think of that great man, mingling his discharge of 
life's business with the utterance of deep religious sentiments, 
O, it was nature speaking nattirally and grace speaking graci- 
ously. Flesh and heart are failing, but he comforts his friends 
and speaks of his country and her welfare. The waters of 
death cannot drown the warm affections of that princely 
heart. " Harvey! 1 am not so sick but that I know you, I am 
well enough to know you, and well enough to call down the 
richest of heaven's blessings upon you and yours. Harvey! 
don't leave me till I am dead — don't leave Marshfield till I am 
a dead man !" Harvey! mortal man cannot be more richly en- 
dowed, and as far as our language shall be spread or spoken, 
this shall be thy memorial, thou faithful friend ! Listen ! 
let the great ones of the earth listen to a slow sepulchral voice 
from the death bed of Webster. " On the 2ith October all 
that is 7nortal of Daniel Webster will be no nioreP But he 
gazed through the gloom of the grave, to the glory that lies be- 
yond, for he prays, and closes his petition with "Heavenly Fa- 
ther forgive my sins and receive me to thyself through Jesus 
Christ." Every mind alive to beauty has loved to dwell on 
Gray's elegy in a country Church yard, but henceforth its 
lines shall be sacred household words, for the dying moments 
of our patriot were charmed by their melody. I bless God 
that"the good physician at his side, knew words of wondrous 
power to charm ; and when the dying sufferer talked of the 
difficulty of dying. Dr. Jeffries whispered, " Though I walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, 
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." The prompt reply 



was. '• ttie Ikct; liie Ikct, that is what i wuul, thy rud. tliy 
staff — thy staff." The last words of the dying man were,, on 
Avaking up to consciousness, ^^ I still Itve.'^ Prophetic, signi- 
ficant, immortal testimony ; yes, he will live — greatly live — 
not only as a redeemed spiiit Vvhere death is knovv^n no more, 
but as a spiritual presence in our land, a guardian watcher, 
whose words of wondrous wisdom shall be read by childhood, 
and valued by all true manhood, so long as that Union lasts. 
which he cemented by his self-sacrifice. There rests upon 
that couch, the mortal remains of the greatest man our coun- 
try ever called her son. — peace his pillow, and piety his guar- 
dian an2:el. — 



'a^ 



"So rests the ea2;Ie on the rocky steep 

Of Kilda's isle, amiutt the roai ing deep ; 

The tempest rages and the billows pour 

Their foam and fury on the echoing shore. 

Meanwhile he sits in undisturbed repose, 

His eye with fire, liis heart with coui'age glows. 

He looks in joy, majestic port assumes, 

Views the dread wrath, and careless trims his plumes. 

Claps his strong v/ings, exulting in his might, 

And mingles with the storm in steady flight!" 

liCt US turn from the chamber where the good man dies, to 
the last solemn offices of affection and respect. Grand sim- 
plicity is to be witnessed in the closmg up of the sad scene. 
" Let there be no pomp — no ceremony. Let my own minis- 
ter, the village pastor, perform the services." But can those 
s nvices be observed in privacy ? The Elect Ruler of the land 
understood the 'case, when v/ith equal truth and beauty he 
d:clarcd, " that the heart of the nation throbs heavily at the 
portals of the grave." It was kindly ordered that the noble, 
large hearted man should die in his own house, amid scenes 
he loved so well, and surrounded by those who loved, honored 
and admired him. The home which he had garnished and 
adorned, the home of his cherished affections, shall be his 

resting place, when tired nature's course is run. 
2 



10 

And all Israel gathered around his sepulchre. Never 
before was such a spectacle witnessed in our day. Far away 
from the crowded city, miles off from the iron track, on the 
wild sea shore, thousands upon thousands are assembling and 
deep solemnity reigns over the gathered masses. Friends 
were there who never expect to feel such another loss, and 
they too, were there as mourners, who had not manifested 
love by recent acts, now that he had gone where human love 
and hatred can reach him never more, they too would drop 
tears upon his ashes, and shout his praises. They who had 
quarreled with Samuel in his life time, would come and help 
lo bury him at Raniah, as if he had manifested some merit in 
dying off. Poor human nature ! — I could not avoid imagin- 
ing that thinking men were talking to themselves something 
like this, " The calamity is greater to him that survives than 
to him that dies. The elfects of this calamity are beyond all 
the powers of calculation to reach. When a great and ex- 
cellent man dies, the chief part of what he was, (at least so 
far as the world is concerned,) perishes. It is very little of 
him that survives in his memory and works. The use and 
application of his experience, the counsels he could give, the 
firmness and sagacity with which he could have executed 
what he might have thus counselled, are gone. He had ac- 
cumulated great stores of learning; by long exercise he had 
refined his taste, he had collected facts, he had drawn the 
most curious conclusions. You might converse with this man 
incessantly for a year, and might learn from him every day. 
How many parts of his skill never came forward as topics of 
conversation, and what extensive powers of learning and ob- 
servation existed in him, that were never poured out upon 
others." Such thoughts filled men's minds as they walked 
the mansion of the dead. Men felt that it was " impossible 
to calculate how much of good perishes, when a great and 
good man dies. 



V* 



Goodwin'i Essay on Sepulchres 



11 

"So when the pilgrim sun is jourueying o'er 
Some western hill to illume a distant shore, 
And all the landscape darkens into night, 
We mourn his setting, but we bless his li^lit !" 

Seldom has God crowned a long life of usefulness with 
more signal honor at death. OtRcial rank and dignity, reli- 
gion, learning, virtue, wealth and honest industry, all crowded 
to witness death's most glorious and memorable conquest. 
Men will never forget the scene when the great Secretary was 
carried from his mansion to the chamber of the grave. There 
in that modest, noble mansion, were the chosen companions of 
his retired moments, the productions of the great and good of 
every age and clime. From that tranquil spot where he had 
so often held high converse with the mighty dead, and com- 
munion with the Father of spirits, avIio gave to men their liv- 
ing souls, he was brought forth to lie beneath the canopy of 
the bright heavens, under the shade of his beloved trees. The 
sun shone out in highest splendor, the air was balm, and ev- 
ery breeze of Heaven, as it swept decaying foliage on the bier, 
inculcated the solemn lesson, that '•' we all do fade as a leaf." 
And millions sympathised in the emotions of that assemblage. 
for the news, lightning winged, had pervaded the continent ; 
and in the beautiful language of Mr. John C. Park, " the 
fisherman on tlie banks pauses in his toil to echo back the 
wail which reaches him from the shore ; and the trapper in 
the valleys of the Rocky Mountains, catches it as it rolls across 
the prairies." 

The funeral services v/ere simple, truthful and aifecting. 
When that procession formed, and I saw the desolate family, 
the afflicted household, the mourning friends and neighbors, I 
thought that it was a funeral becoming a patriarch. It was 
in harmony with the character of the place where pilgrim 
fathers slept — so once they buried Abraham, and so did our 
forefathers bury Brewster, Winslow and others, of whom the 
world was not worthy. There they buried our nation's stay 
and staft', and the deep blue sea he loved so well shall sing 



12 

his requiem, till the mighty One siiall stand upon the sea and 
upon the dry land, and declare that Time shall be no longer. 

" Trial and toil were o'er; 
Anguish and hate, and the withering scowl 
Of hot-tongued malice, and angers howl, 
Were still as the dead sea shore — 
O fame ! this was thy victor hour, 
Earn'd not by spear or arm of power, 
Nor bloody wreath, nor crimson brand — 
Curses and glory hand in hand." 

An acquaintance of more than twenty-five years has ena- 
bled me to form some just idea of the departed. I have al- 
ways regarded him as a christian man, and the fact is singu- 
lar, though melancholy, that many who were his malignant 
revilers in life, acknowledge his excellence at death. I rest 
my cheerful conviction of his piety upon personal knowledge. 
I fully unite with the Rev. Mr. Alden, in hisopinion expressed 
in his funeral oration, that the delineation which Mr. Web- 
ster gave of one of his early and noble compeers '• could nev- 
er have been written, except from an experimental acquaint- 
ance with that which he holds up as the chief excellence of 
his friend." "Political eminence and professional fame fade 
away and die with all things earthly. Nothing of character 
is really permanent but virtue and personal worth, these re- 
main. Whatever of excellence is wrought into the soul it- 
self, belongs to both worlds. Religion does not attach itself 
merely to this life, it points to another world. Professional or 
political reputation cannot last forever, but a conscience void 
of offence towards God and man, is an inheritance for eternity. 
Religion is the tie that connects man with his Creator, and 
holds him to his throne. If that great tie be all sundered, all 
broken, he floats away a worthless atom in the universe ; its 
proper attraction all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole 
future nothing but desolation, darkness and death. A man 
with no sense of religious duty is he whom the scriptures de- 
scribe in such true but terrible language, as " living without 



God ill the world." Such a nmu is out ut' his piopui being, 
out of the circle of ail his duties, out of the circle of all his 
happiness, and away, far. far away from the purposes of his 
creation. 

'•A mind like Mr. Mason's, active, thoughtful, penetrating, 
sedate, could not but meditate dec[)ly on the condition of man 
below, and feel its responsibilities. He could not look on this 
mighty system, 

"This universal frame thus wondrous fair," 

without feeling that it was created and upheld by an intelli- 
gence, to which all other intelligence must be responsible. 
I am bound to say that in the course of my life, I never met 
with an individual, in any profession or condition of life, who 
always spoke, and always thought, with such awful reverence 
of the povv'er and presence of God.'' 

" No irreverence, no lightness, even no too familiar allusion 
to God and his attributes ever escaped his lips. The very no- 
tion of a Supreme Being, was wiih him made up of awe and 
solemnity. It filled the whole of his great mind with the 
strongest emotions. A man like him, with all his proper senti- 
ments and sensibilities alive in him, must, in this state of ex- 
istence, have something to believe and something to hope for ; 
or else, as life is advancing to its close and parting, all is heart- 
sinking and oppression. Depend upon it, whatever may be 
the mind of an old man, old age is only really happy, when, 
on feeling the enjoyments of this world pass away, it begins 
to lay a stronger hold on those of another." 

" Mr. Mason's religious sentiments and feelings were the 
crowning glories of his character." 

Such a man could not be reckless or thoughtless, and they 
who knew him best,' knew that God was in all his thoughts ; 
the God of nature in his works filling him with loftiest admi- 
ration, the God of providence ordering all his daily steps, and 
the God of grace speaking to him in the volume of a father's 
love. 



14 

Many years ago — 1834, in passing through the Sound, we 
occupied the Captain's state-room. At night Mr. Webster took 
up my bible and read the 23d Psahn, and then made some 
fine rcmarlcs upon the character of David, observing that the 
varied experience of David as a shepherd boy — a King, vic- 
torious and vanquished, had made him acquainted with all 
the diversified feelings of human nature, and had thus quali- 
fied him to be the chorister of the church, in ail future ages. 
After this, he asked me to commend ourselves to God, remark- 
ing that none needed prayer more than " the wayfaring man." 
That evening I asked Mr. Webster if his religious views 
were those of the Orthodox Congregationalists, with whom I 
had heard that he united in early life. " Yes," he said, " he 
thought that he had never changed his religious opinions, that 
he regarded Jonathan Edwards as being as nearly the stamp 
of truth as any mere human writer. He spoke of his history, 
of Redemption as having greatly interested him, and added, 
"but I prefer to find truth as it is conveyed to us in the word, 
without system, yet so clear and lucid." In regard to the 
atonement, he expressed the most abiding confidence, observ- 
ing that it seemed to him the great peculiarity of the gospel, 
to deny which was to reduce it to a level with other systems 
of religion. He observed that he had " no taste for metaphys- 
ical refinement in theology, and preferred plain statements of 
truth." He thought the pulpit had much to answer for in 
producing difterences of opinion among ^christians, and ex- 
pressed his belief that the best and safest way to oppose all 
sorts of error was the plain enunciation of the truth. In this 
conversation I was much impressed with the remark, "I 
take the Bible to be inspired, and it must not be treated as 
though it merely contained a revelation; it is a revelatio7i.^' 
" You ministers make a great mistake i!i not dwelling more 
upon the great facts of Christianity, they are the founda- 
tions of the system, and there is a power connected with their 
statement ; it seems to me that Peter and Paul understood 
this. Plain preaching is what we all want, and as much il- 



15 

lustration as you can bring iij). 1 once heard Dr. Beecher, 
in Hanover street, Boston, talk lor an hour on God's law, in its 
application to the heart and life; he did it, in my idea of good 
preaching." 

In 1S40, at Washington, walking home from church, after I 
had been preaching, the conversation turned upon the great 
lights of the 17th century in England, Mr. Webster remarked, 
" Barrow and Taylor are my favorites, although so different in 
their style. Howe's living temple is grandeur itself Char- 
nock must have been a capital preacher, his discourses on 
the attributes are very solemn. Bishop Horsley is the great- 
est polemic of the church; there seems to me no escape from 
his grappling irons. It will not do to say that ho was an infi- 
del ; no infidel could write as he does." Mr. Webster said 
that he thought Robert Hall the best writer of the age, but he 
admired Foster's essay on Popular Ignorance, as the best book 
of the day for thought. Last February I dined with Mr. 
Webster, in New York, upon the Sabbath day. He had been 
hearing Dr. Hawks, and spoke in commendation of the ear- 
nestness of the discourse, and pointing across the Park to the 
brick church, said '• there I always hear capital sermons from 
Dr. Spring, always full of strong^ sense and simple piety." 
After dinner there was an immense procession going through 
Broadway, in honor of a murdcuer who had been executed on 
Friday. Mr. Webster gazed at the vast assemblage, and ob- 
served, " that, sir, is a terrible sight, I have rarely seen any 
thing more shocking ; but they are foreigners, their children 
will become good citizens, education and religion will do eve- 
ry thing for them." 

On handing Mr. Webster a copy of Neal's History of the 
Puritans, which I had edited with notes, he said, "You have 
bestowed your time well. These Puritans made our country 
what it is, I love to think of them, and down at Marshfield 
I love to gaze over at Plymouth and live their sufferings over 
in thought. O, what men they were, what they endured and 
sacrificed ! How much they must have suffered at Leydeii 



16 

among a strange pfOpie. Tiiey loved itie imih aud it made 
them free." I asked, What do you think, sir, of Laud? 
'• Why," said Mr. Webster, " the wonder to nie is, not that 
they cut on his head, but that they did not give him compa- 
ny from the bench." In relation to Charles ist, Mr. Webster 
observed, '• to call Charles a martyr, degrades ray ideas of 
martyrdom, certainly his road to that distinction was one of 
chicanery and deception." 

At a dinner party in Boston, Mr. Webster stated that he had 
been reading "Burton's Diary," and that it was a mine of 
great value. " There you get the true calibre of the Round- 
heads ; their speeches in Parliament v/ere really wonderful 
productions, and I am satisfied that their discussions about re- 
ligion, were mainly in view of the great civil consequences 
involved. The men of that day were richly furnished ; look 
at Cowley, Evelyn, and Clarendon, on one side, and Elliot, 
Sydney, Milton, Harrington, and Marvel on the other. These 
men ail breathed in gardens, and kept up their humanity by 
meditations amidst the tranquility of nature. Cromwell and 
Hampden were the 'men. Cromwell was a statesman every 
inch. Hampden is a man of whom I want to know more than 
Lord Nugent has told us ; i want to know how he talked and 
lived every day down in the country. A proper history or 
biography is the story of a life; mere public facts do not make 
a biography. I want to know not only what a man did, but 
the wciy in which he did it, when it sprang up in his heart to 
do it. I want to know all about the days of adversity or sun- 
shine in which he was schooled, I want to know about the 
boy as well as the man. Facts, naked facts, are not history, 
they are but the oil and brushes, and when you have them 
an artist must come along to work you up an historical pic- 
ture." 

Soon after the negotiation of the Ashburton treaty, I was 
in the State Department, sitting with Mr. Webster, when a 
Massachusetts gentleman, who hadj long been in Europe, 
came in to pay his respects to the Secretar3'. Alluding to the 



17 

treaty, he expressed the deep sense of obhgatioii, which Ame- 
ricans abroad felt for liis eminent services in preserving the 
peace of the country. Mc. Webster thanked liim for his kind 
remarks, and then said,—" Sir, there have been many occasions, 
while sitting at this table, Vv-hcn I could, by the motion of my 
hand, have lighted up a war ; but sir, my duty was perfectly 
plain. I had only to remember that I was negotiating for a 
christian people, with a christian people, and that we were 
living in the nineteenth century of the christian era." Mr. 
Webster never uttered a nobler sentiment. 

Two years ago, at the dinner table at the Revere House, in 
Boston, and several friends around the board, a remark was 
made by one respecting the poetry of the Old Testament. Mr. 
Webster immediately remarked, " ah, my friend, the poetry of 
Isaiah and Job, and Habbakuk is beautiful indeed, but when 
you reach your 69th year, you will give more for the 14th or 
17th chapter of John's gospel, or for one of the Epistles, than 
for all the poetry of the Bible." Mr. W^ebster then said to me, 
" Sir, I deeply regret that I have never recorded my opinion 
of God's Word in some public manner." He then stated that 
he had declined speaking at Bible Societies, from fear that the 
motives prompting to such a step would be regarded as sinis- 
ter. I named the American Bible Society's Anniversary as a 
suitable occasion, and he declared that if he was invited to 
speak, he would embrace the opportunity with pleasure. The 
cler'^vman to whom I made the suggestion, soon slept in death. 
The glorious testimony in favor of Christianity, which closed 
the inaugural speech of Gen. Harrison, was placed there at 
the request of his Secretary of State. 

I once asked Mr. Webster his opinion of the Oxford Tracts. 
''■ Sir, I have looked at them, but feel very little interest in the 
subject. It is a simple point, in my view, to be decided. Does 
Christianity support the church, or does the church support 
Christianity? I go for the plain, old-fashioned congregational 
form, but I love to meet with the church of God wherever I 
find it ; and so 1 commune with mv ovNm church at Marsh- 
3 



1» 

Held, and with Presbyterians or Episcopalians, as I may hap- 
pen to find them." 

I think the sentiments embodied in a conversation which I 
had with Mr. Webster, at Washington, previous to my visit 
to Europe in 1851, are worthy of record. " Well sir, I notice 
from your letter for Passports, that you take three of your pu- 
pils. I am glad that they are going. You will teach them 
things abroad which will be useful to them when they return. 
Show them the great farms, the noble stock ; let them see the 
rural life of England, and learn to love it. We want to have 
more love for the country. We want more beauty thrown 
around our houses, and the lads will come home with better 
taste. Try to cultivate their memories as to the localities of 
England. Let them never forget the places sacred to hberty. 
The tower is a perfect study, it requires thought, it is no place 
to be despatched in a hurried visit. It is history, sir. West- 
minster Abbey is a wonderful place, not only for what it is, 
but for what it is not. Smithf.eld, too, is full of glory. If ev- 
er Jacob's ladder rested upon earth, it was there, where bloody 
Mary made it the gate to heaven for so many martyrs. Bun- 
hill fields; I was too good a Puritan not to go there. I wanted 
to stand where Bunyan, Owen, Goodwin and Defoe were bu- 
ried. I should hke to stand at the graves of all the great men 
of England. This journey will do the lads great good ; it will 
furnish them matter for thought in future life, and if- they 
improve this opportunity, it will teach them what so few un- 
derstand, how to grow old decently. An ignorant, unculti- 
vated old man is a poor affair ; the tailor can pad oirt his 
wasted form, but nothing except early acquirements and good 
sentiments can make fine old age. You will see ' the Duke' 
sir, he is the most remarkable man in the country ; so practi- 
cal, such sterling sense, so self-reliant ; a man is nothing, no- 
thing, who does not depend upon himself. I shall give you 
letters, sir, addressed to men I value highly, who are orna- 
ments to our nature. Pray make the lads notice the attention 
paid in England to age and position, no where can the propri- 



19 

eties of life be learned so well. What a destiny lies beforii 
these two countries, England and the United States ; the 
same language, laws, and religion. Did you ever think of 
the wonderful concealment of America from Europe, till ' the 
set time' had arrived for its revelation?" 

For many years, in common with other friends, I had urged 
upon Mr. Webster, the performance of a work which we feared 
he might delay too long, — the publication of his own works, 
revised under his own eye. Although solicitous to accom- 
plish this object, there were impediments in his way. In Oct, 
1850, Mr. Webster honored me with a telegraphic message to 
meet him in Boston, and placed in my hands a commission 
to purchase the copy-right of his works, which had for years 
been in the hands of publishers. I shall never forget the grasp 
of his hand when I announced the extinction of the copy- 
right, nor the hearty expression, " thank God that I own my 
own works.'' 

Mr. Webster, in numerous conversations which occurred in 
a series of years, made remarks and dropped opinions, which 
I thought deserved preservation, and I trust that I am not 
guilty of any impropriety in placing a few of them upon record. 
And here I rejoice to state, that in all the interviews which 
I had the happiness and honor to enjoy with this great 
man, I cannot remember that I ever heard him utter an un- 
kind, acrimonious, or uncharitable remark upon any man. 
Once, when a gentleman had named some violent censures 
heaped upon him in his public character, Mr. Webster calm- 
ly replied, " Perhaps my calumniator's misfortunes have 
soured his temperament, for I remember him a very kindly 
disposed person ; we must make allowances for the infirmities 
of age." The provocation had been very great, and his mo- 
tives had been wantonly assailed, yet his considerate and mag- 
nanimous spirit triumphed nobly upon this occasion.* 

* Perhups it is impossible to place Mr. Webster's true nobility of heart, and his forgiving 
spirit in a more strilting light, than by the publication of the following letter :— 

Letter from 3Ie. Webjter to Senator Dickinson.— The Binghamton Republican pub- 
lishes the following interesting letter, addressed by Mr. Webster tn Mr. Dickinson, just as Mr. 



20 

On one occasion Mr. Webster remarked, "When 1 
was in England I was greatly pleased with the wall 
flower, so often seen upon the walls of ruins and decay- 
ing buildings. The country people call it the bloody wall 
flower. I seldom picked this sweet scented flower without 
thinking of the hopes and wishes of life — the best and sweet- 
est of my life, all surrounded with ruin and decay, still we 
must look out for the blossoms of hope " 

" I have been reading White's Selbourne once more. What 
moral beauty there was in White's mind ! How he revelled 
in quiet country life ; and when he became deaf, and could no 
longer hear the birds sing, yet he thanks God that his eye- 
sight is still quick and good." 

Walking in the evening at Marshfield, and gazing at the 
sea, Mr. Webster stopped, and placing his hand Kipon my 
shoulder, recited several verses of Mrs. Hemans' beautiful po- 
em on the Sound of the Sea. — 

Webster was leaving tlie Senate to take liis place as Secretary of State. Its allusion to pain- 
ful occurrences in the past, is the charge brought by Mr. Dickinson against Mr. Webster, in 
regard to the Ashburton treaty, and to the strong language in which they were repelled-: 

" Washington, Sept. 27, 1850. 

My Dear Sir : Our companionship in the Senate is dissolved. After tliis long and most 
important session, you are about to return to your home, and I shall try to find leisure to visit 
mine. I hope vveiuay meet each other again two months hence, for the discharge of our du- 
ties in our respective stations in the government. But life is uncertain, and I have not I'elt 
willing to take leave of you, witliout placing in your hands a note containing a very few words 
which I wish to say to you. ' 

In the earlier part of our acquaintance, my dear sir, occurrences took place which I remem- 
ber with constantly increasing regret and pain, because the more I have known of you, the 
greater have been my esteem for your character, and my respect for your talents. But it is 
your noble, able, manly, and patriotic conduct in support of the great measure of this session, 
which has entirely won my heart, and secured my highest regird; I hope you may live long 
to serve your country ; but I do not think you are ever likely to see a crisis in which you may 
be ab'.eto do so much, either for your own distinction, or the public good. You have stood 
where others have fallen ; you have advanced with firm and manly step, where others liave 
wavered, faltered, and fallen back ; and for one I desire to thank you, and to commend your 
conduct, out of the fullness of an honest heart. 

This letter needs no reply ; it is, I am aware, of very little value ; but I liave thought you 
might be willing to receive it, and, perhaps, to leave it where it would be seen by those who 
shall come after you. I pray you, when you reach your own threshold, to remember me most 
kindly to your wife and daughter. 

I remain, my dear sir, with the tiuest esteem, your friend obedient servant, 

Daniel Webster. 
Hon. Daniel 5. Dickinson, C S. Senate. 



21 

^^ . ,:v " Thou art ssouudiiig ou, thou mighty sea. 

For ever and the same; 
The ancient rocks yet ring to thee, 
Whose thunders nought can tame. 

Oh, !nany a glorious voice is gone 

From the rich bowers of earth, 
And hush'd is many a lovely one 

Of ni'mrnfulness or mirth. 

But thou art swelling ou, thou deep I 

Through many an olden clime, 
Thy billowy anthems ne'er to sleep, 

Until the close of time. 

Dining with a few friends at the Samoset House, in Ply- 
mouth, Mr. Webster expressed his surprise "that none of our 
best writers had made Plymonth Rock and its Pilgrim Colo- 
ny, the subject of a great poem, or the ground-work of a no- 
ble fiction. The greatness of the deeds connected with the 
place is no reason why fancy should not go to work. The 
materials are fine for a great fiction. There is Willis, who has 
Written some of the most beautiful things in our language, he 
should have made this a love afiair and gone at it." Wlieii 
so.uc one questioned the high estimate just given of Mr. Willis, 
Mr. Webster quoted the poem on " Hagar in the Wilderness," 
and said, " Where can we find any thing better, my friend?" 

Upon one occasion during the present year, Mr. Webster 
said of some true-hearted men, " These have been with me 
in my tribulation. Job, sir, well understood human nature, 
he speaks of some of his friends as ritnning brooks." 

I once asked Mr. Webster what speeches of the great men 
of the age he most admired. He replied, " Mirabeau's on Na- 
tional Bankruptcy ; Canning's, upon the South American In- 
dependence, and the affairs of Portugal ; and Sir Robert Peel's, 
on retiring from office, are all favorites with me." 

W^hen History was once the subject of conversation, Mr. 
Webster remarked, tliat " he did not think it was as well 
taught as other subjects in education. I would teach a boy 



22 



Roman History, with very many notes and annotations. A 
lad should be made to know that Rome was a highwayman, 
and principally admired because so successful. The whole 
history of Rome is one of crime. We, as a people, ought to 
study the history of Rome, very thoughtfully." 

On one occasion, a Boston gentleman was talking to Mr. 
Webster, respecting the best way to educate his son in the ci- 
ty. " Sir, I would send him to the public school." But an ob- 
jection was made that there was a great admixture of boys, 
and evils to be apprehended from so many foreigners, &.c. 
Mr. Webster replied, " Sir, send your son to the public school, 
and if he sits by an Irish boy, they will both, perhaps, be bet- 
ter for the association. I am strongly in favor of public 
schools." 

In relation to Education Societies, Mr. Webster had doubts 
as to their expediency and efficacy. He thought that in New 
England, a man who had the root of the matter in him, would 
secure a theological education ; and he expressed his fear, that 
the system so much in vogue, was calculated to lower the 
character of the ministry in point of talent, and make it less 
independent." 

I shoidd disgrace my office as a minister of the Gospel, if I 
were to give any currency , to the fatal opinion, that we are to 
regard faithful public services, in the light of a commutation 
for personal piety. No man has more sternly rebuked this fal- 
lacy than the lamented patriot whose death we deplore. 

How different is the death of Webster, acknowledging his 
guilt, and asking for pardon through Jesus Christ, to that of 
Lord Nelson, declaring with his dying breath that he was 
" not a great sinner." How glorious was the scene at Marsh- 
field, when compared with the circumstances of the great un- 
believer of the last century. Bolingbroke, gifted with every 
talent that distinguishes a man, a commanding intellect, a 
glowing imagination, and a captivating eloquence, wanting 
nothing but a sense of religion. On seeing a friend in the 



agonies of death, he exclaimed, "It is hardly worth wliiie to 
be here at all." 

I wish to hold up Daniel Webster to the attention of the 
young. Remember that he was a New England farmer's boy. 
In early boyhood, he had fewer advantages than you possess 
at the present day ; but he worked hard, he improved his time, 
and laid in early life the foundation of his fame. Read his 
life, my young friends, and let all the anecdotes of his boy- 
hood pass into year recollections, as a type of that peculiar 
training which has raised up so many great good men in our 
countrj\ 

It is a very striking fact that so many of our great men haA^e 
recently passed away, while yet "in the harness" of public 
life. Clinton, Harrison, Adams, Calhoun, Woodbury, Clay, 
and Webster, each at his post when the summons came 
crying, '-give aji account of thy stewardship."' Surely, my 
hearers, we are taught a lesson, and have matter for solemn 
reflection. 

Who shall fill these places we cannot tell. One thing is 
certain, that men of their strength and stature, we are not soon 
likely to see again. And yet the mighty God, " who fainteth 
not neither is weary," can give his spirit of wisdom and under- 
standing to others, as he did to our deceased patriot. Let us 
not despair of our beloved land. To do so would be ingrati- 
tude to the God who v/as with our fathers, and " led them liy 
the right way." I pray you my fellow citizens, let us not 
make an arm of flesh our trust, and let us learn to look less to 
the creature, and more to the Creator. God is at no loss to 
save and bless a country to which he has a favor. Moses and 
Joshua, Othniel and Ehud, Gideon and Samuel, and David, 
were all raised up for the welfare of Israel ; and when God 
would bless our father land, he brought out Alfred and Crom- 
well as terrors to our foes ; and when he would break the fa- 
tal yoke of Popery in Europe, he brought forth Luther, and 
Calvin, and Knox ; and when our country was in danger, he 
gave us Washington to lay the foundation of our Constitution 



24 

and then lie gave ns Webster to defend it. And as it was in 
the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without 
end. Amen. 

" Duncan is in liis grave ; 
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. 
Treason has done its worst; nor steel, nor poison^ 
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing 
Can touch him farther." 



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